Wok Star
by CrazySerena13
Summary: Jade's version of the episode Wok Star from the first season.
1. Chapter 1

A/N So this idea just came to me today while I was watching this episode of Victorious with my girls. It is one of the only shows my girls enjoy that I can stomach, and I actually really love the characters, especially Jade, and wanted to get into her head a bit.

Wok Star

Chapter One

Jade's POV

I feel my phone vibrate on my hip for about the twentieth time in the past hour. I don't even pause to glance down at the display screen. My eyes are focused on the trash can that I am methodically mutilating. I already know that it will be another text from Beck, asking where I am, if I'm okay, please let him know, yada yada yada. I know that I should send some kind of answer to him, but if I stop what I am currently doing, the tears I'm trying so damn hard to keep at bay may fall.

Blowing off my past two classes isn't going to do me any favors- the school is certain to call my mom about my unexcused absences. I don't even _want_ to think about the amount of hell I am going to have to deal with when my mom and stepdad find out I skipped class. Fuck, it's not like it matters. My stepdad doesn't need an excuse to punish me. My mere exsistance seems to be enough for him.

"Well Wishes" was the ONE thing that I've created that I have been completely proud of. I had so much faith in my script, I even opened my big, fat mouth to my father about it. I _never_ talk to him about school- or anything that is important to me really. It's not like he gives a rat's ass about anything involving the arts. My excitement and pride must have been too much for him to overlook and dismiss this time though. He actually told me that he would come to see my play when it opened, and literally pulled out his pearpad to make a reminder for himself about it.

Now thanks to Lane and Eikner, any hope that I had of earning one smidgen of respect from my father is null and void. How the hell can I tell him to forget it? That Sikowitz raved about the depth and feeling of my script, the emotional complexity, the way I could write such a brilliant piece of work at only sixteen was almost unheard of. My father won't care that my Bohemian theater teacher thought it was just as amazing as I did. What he WILL care about is the fact that once the play comittee read my script, I was sent to Lane's office for a mandatory "chat" with Eiker and him.

"This play is just too dark Jade."

"You understand this could upset people."

"We don't want to discourage you from writing in any way."

"Maybe your next play shouldn't focus on something so disturbing."

Seriously!? I mean, why the hell is it okay for SINJIN to direct a play about fucking canniblism? How is that subject not dark and depressing? I mean, a girl falling into a well and drowning in her own tears is worse than a bunch of campers going crazy, starving to death in the wilderness and freaking _eating_ each other? Fuck you Lane and Eikner.

I notice my hands are shaking. I bite my bottom lip attempting to stop the tears that are threatening to run down my face. I take a ragged breath and focus all my energy on the sharp blades of my scissors, watching as they slice through the dense plastic of the janitor's trash can.

I can feel myself settling down and regaining my compsure. Good thing too, because ten seconds later I hear the squeek of the closet doorknob being turned, and I can feel the air swish as the closet door opens towards me. I discretely raise my eyes to the door, to see who has breached my sanctuary. Beck slowly walks in, followed by all the others.

Fucking fabulous.

A/N Let me know if you think I should continue this.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N

Okay, I was planning on watching the episode again to get a better feel for what happened later on. BUT, my girls wanted to watch different episodes. So now I have notes for the first chapter of like 3 different Victorious episodes, but I'm not much further into Wok Star. Sorry. I was planning on adding more to this, but I guess for tonight it will have to stand on it's own. Enjoy?

Chapter Two

Okay, so I know I basically twisted her words around, and guilt tripped Vega into finding the money to produce my show. But, seriously, all of her nice, calm, encouraging words made me want to thank her for her faith in me, and vomit all over her perfect cheekbones at the same time. I mean, does she have any fucking clue how hard it is to come up with three grand? Sure, both my parents are loaded, but trust me, I don't see ANY of that money. They barely put up with paying all the extra fees that come with attending a performing arts high school (public school or not, the extra fees associated with this place are crazy expensive.) You better believe that they give me a whooping $20 a week as an allowance, (keep in mind that is supposed to pay for my lunches and coffee through out the week, plus anything else) and I only get the luxury of seeing that if all my chores are done and I have straight A's. Surprised? If you ever met my parents you wouldn't be. My father hates that I attend a performing arts school, and would love a chance to yank me out. He has assured me many times over that he will do just that if he sees so muh as a B+ in any of my classes. My stepdad just hates the fact that I exist in the first place. My mother? She is so desperate to hold onto her second husband that she barely remembers she has a daughter half the time. Except when the house isn't spotless. Or if she feels that Mark (my stepfather) is focusing too much on me, instead of his blushing bride. THEN she remembers my existance. Needless to say, $3,000, I do NOT have access to.

I do know that if anyone could by some dumb luck get ahold of anywhere near that amount of money, (legally) it would be Tori fucking Vega. So yeah, I am banking on her to find the money. Why not actually use her seemingly uncanny good luck to my benefit for a change? It would be nice to have her positive juju work for me instead of against me for a change.

I charged out of the janitor's closet with no real destination in mind, I just wanted to get the hell away from everyone. Before I know it, I am shoving the door open into the girl's bathroom. I trudge over the the mirrors and rest my hands on the edge of the sink. I glance up at my disheveled reflection in the mirror. Taking a few deep breaths, I mutter my personal mantra "Everything happens for a reason," three times quietly to myself. I'm not sure why, but it makes me feel a little better. It always has. I reach into my bag and grab the lipstick that's in the front pocket and procede to reappply it, since I must have chewed it all off in my mini pity party in the janitor's closet. I run my fingers gently through my hair, trying to rearrange the rat's nest my hair has become.

"Jade, are you okay?" Cat askes as she bursts into the bathroom. How the hell does she know I am in here? Do I leave some kind of "Jade scent" that she and Beck can follow? They both seem to have some uncanny ability to find me when I least want to be found. "I'm sorry I didn't try to find you sooner. I didn't know."

"I will be okay if Vega can come up with the money to produce my play," I reply, turning towards my best friend since second grade.

"She will!" Cat ensures me, with her ever- present optimism. If it had been anyone else, I would have had some biting remark to retaliate with.

Since it was Cat though, I just gave a half-hearted smile and muttered "Thanks, Kitty Cat," trying not to show her how hurt and worried I actually am that for once Vega won't be able to deliver.

I can tell she is about to hug me, and as much as I love her, I do NOT want her near me, so I turn and walk out the door, slamming directly into another body a few feet into the hallway.

"Watch where you're going!" I scream, never taking my eyes off the floor.

"I was hoping to bump into you," Beck says, grabbing onto my arms. "Let's go somewhere and talk. I know you need to." he says, steering me into the direction of the janitor's closet.

"No!" I said a bit too loud, surprising Beck enough that he drops his grip on my arms. "Can we please just go to your RV?" I ask him. "I just really need to get out of here, and away from everyone. I just can't-" I cut myself off and look away from Beck's gaze, as I feel the traitorous tears threaten to fall, and hear just how pathetic I sound. Beck wraps his arms around me and presses me into his body.

"Sure." He releases me, takes hold of my hand and we walk out the doors of Hollywood Arts together.

A/N

Sorry if this is complete crap. I've had a few glasses of wine tonight, and yeah...


End file.
